Being 'The Girl'
by Dream Weaver 85
Summary: Against all her expectations, Sam found that earning Colonel O’Neill’s trust and respect was a done deal. It was the rest of the base personnel that were having trouble accepting that the 2IC slot on the program’s flagship team had gone to a woman." S1
1. Children of the Gods

A/N: Sam's comment in "Hathor" about feeling like 'the girl' inspired a wee little plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone until I put it in writing, so here goes nothing! As usual, it hasn't been beta-ed so please bear with me. And most importantly… Enjoy: )

**Being 'The Girl'**

"Are you telling me _that's _the girl they sent out with O'Neill's team?"

Gritting her teeth, against the flash of irritation the words sparked, Sam studiously avoided looking in the direction the whispered exclamation had come from. Striding purposely over to an available treadmill, she popped her headphones over her ears and cranked the volume on her discman as loud as it would go. She could care less about permanent hearing damage, just so long as she didn't have to listen to any more gossip about herself tonight.

Setting the treadmill's pace and incline to the most punishing setting her bruised and weary body could handle, Sam proceeded to vent her frustration on the machine's belt. Each slap of her feet on the rubber eased away a little of the tension that had left her prowling Cheyenne Mountain's hallways like a caged animal. She continued to run long after the last of her restless energy had dissipated, hoping to exhaust herself to the point that sleep would steal over her as soon as she laid down in her temporary quarters.

Forty-five minutes later, the thoughts that her workout had managed to chase away crept back to the forefront of her mind as she swept a hand across her forehead to brush her sweat-matted bangs out of her eyes.

She'd known she would have her work cut out for her, convincing the infamous Colonel Jack O'Neill that she deserved a spot on his team. She'd spent the entire flight from Washington preparing herself to prove to yet another chauvinistic officer that she was just as good as any man under his command.

What she hadn't expected was how easily he'd accepted her presence. Oh, he hadn't been happy about it, but Sam truly believed that had more to do with disliking scientists than any hee-man woman-hating on his part.

With two missions under Colonel O'Neill's command under her belt, Sam was surprised to discover that the man didn't mind having her around. What's more, he actually trusted her in the field. That was a first for her; she'd earned her commanders' respect in the lab easily enough in the past, but there'd always been a hesitation to leave her watching someone's back out in the field.

Now, against all her expectations, Sam found that earning Colonel O'Neill's trust and respect was a done deal. It was the rest of the base personnel that were having trouble accepting that the 2IC slot on the program's flagship team had gone to a woman.

Leaving her headphones on, Sam wound her way through the base on her way to the locker room, mulling the last few days over. The stargate program was more than she'd ever thought possible, even in her wildest dreams. Having already traveled to more planets than a NASA astronaut could ever hope to set foot on in a lifetime sent a shiver of excitement down her spine every time she thought about it. She'd had to fight tooth and nail to get posted to a field unit, but it was absolutely worth it.

After knocking and receiving no response, Sam flipped the sign on the locker room door to 'women' and entered. She removed her headphones before peeling off her sweat soaked workout clothes. Relieved to find that she had the room to herself, Sam's thoughts turned to contemplating her teammates.

They were an odd bunch, that much was for sure, she thought with a wry smile as she toed off her running shoes. A once-retired black ops Colonel, a civilian archaeologist and an honest to God alien... Despite their vastly different backgrounds and experiences, Sam had to admit they worked well together. There was still a lot of work to do to mold the foursome into a fully functioning field unit, but all in all, things looked promising.

As she reached into her locker for her shower gear, Sam's musings were interrupted by disgruntled voices just outside the locker room door.

"I bet it's that damn girl from O'Neill's team, taking her sweet time and hogging the showers," the first voice growled, the owner's displeasure evident.

"She won't last," his companion assured confidently. "Even if the powers that be decide she's not too big a liability to leave in the field, she'll request a transfer as soon as she realizes that it's not science fair show-and-tell time out there."

Slamming her locker shut, Sam blinked back tears of frustration. Heading to the back of the room where the shower stalls were located, she resolved that she'd never let anyone on base know how much the harsh words that stalked her through the hallways hurt her.

Some days it really sucked being 'the girl.'


	2. Emancipation

**Being 'The Girl'**

"Isn't that the girl O'Neill traded his sidearm to an alien warlord for?"

Biting back an annoyed sigh, Sam struggled to block out the conversation from across the gym and focused on her sparring partner's moves. After SG-1's last mission, she was determined to improve her hand-to-hand combat skills and part of improving was learning to block out all distractions and focus on the task at hand.

Teal'c narrowed his eyes and directed a stony glare at the marines currently hefting free weights. His attention was diverted from Sam for only a fraction of a second, but that was all the time it took for the men to take note of the look being sent their way. They fell silent immediately and Teal'c returned his full attention to the sparring lesson.

Sam tried to keep her muscles loose, but as the last words spoken replayed themselves in her head over and over again, she couldn't stop the tension from tightening in her limbs.

She wasn't sure what was worse: that all anyone on base could talk about was that an air force captain with a PhD traded pretty cheap on the open market nowadays, or that her kidnapping on SG-1's last mission had renewed most people's sense that there was no room for a woman on the base's flagship team.

Anger slowly started simmering in her veins and she gave up trying to temper it. Instead, she tried to work off some of its intensity, unleashing a rapid series of punches and kicks on Teal'c. She knew anger would only make her attack sloppy, but at the moment she couldn't care less.

Teal'c easily blocked each one of her blows, moving almost effortlessly against the onslaught. When she backed off a few paces, putting some distance between them while she caught her breath, he took the opportunity to speak with her.

"Captain Carter, I believe that we have achieved sufficient results for the day. Already a capable warrior, you have learned much in the last few sessions and will present any opponent with an impressive challenge," he intoned. His voice carried to the marines in the corner and a series of disbelieving snorts drifted back to him.

Sam flashed a glare at her teammate before tearing the boxing gloves from her fists and throwing them at the nearest bench. Grabbing her water bottle on her way to the door, she tossed a curt "Fine," over her shoulder and was on her way to the locker room within seconds. Teal'c raised an eyebrow in surprise at her reaction, but she missed it, so consumed by anger that she never even glanced back.

"Captain Carter," Teal'c called into the hallway and, with a sigh, she turned and waited for him to catch up with her. "I apologize if I have offended you in some way."

"I appreciate what you were trying to do," Sam said shortly, running a hand through her sweat-dampened blonde hair, "But don't bother."

"I do not understand."

"Look," Sam explained impatiently. "I know you were trying to help, but nothing is going to convince those guys I can handle myself in the field, and when you walk around praising me like that, all it does is prove to them I can't take care of myself here, let alone out there."

Past experience had taught Sam that much. Throughout basic training, grad school, flight training and the various postings she'd had, no amount of praise for her abilities had ever satisfied her peers that she deserved to be right where she was.

"My words were not spoken for their benefit, Captain Carter," Teal'c assured, his voice remaining calm despite the frustration evident in her voice. "Nor were they empty words spoken for yours."

"You don't have to do this, Teal'c," she sighed heavily, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "I know I've got to be the most pathetic student you've ever had…"

"Why do you belittle your own skills, Captain Carter?" the big man asked, confusion evident. He had served with many Jaffa who had feigned a lack of confidence in their own prowess, seeking out words to the contrary from others in order to swell their egos, but he did not believe that was what his teammate was doing.

"Because I've seen Jaffa in battle, not much, but enough to know how well trained you all are," she explained. "Up until two months ago you were responsible for training Apophis' personal guard and now all you've got to work with is me."

"You are one of the finest warriors I have ever had the honor of encountering, Samantha Carter," Teal'c said, the earnestness in his voice dragging her eyes up to meet his. "And I am humbled that you would allow me to offer what advice I may to improve your skills."

"Even though I'm a woman?" Sam asked, finally giving voice to the doubt that had been nagging at her ever since Teal'c had joined SG-1.

They hadn't had much of a chance to observe Jaffa society, but the little she'd gleaned from the time before their capture combined with the information Teal'c had shared told her that the idea of a female soldier was a foreign one to the man in front of her. He didn't treat her differently than he did Colonel O'Neill or Daniel, but then again, they hadn't really been in a combat situation since that first meeting on Chulac; she wasn't sure that, in the middle of a battle, he would really trust her to watch his back.

"You are a strong and well-trained warrior who is both honorable and courageous. I trust you with my life," Teal'c assured, bowing his head slightly. "That you are a woman is of no consequence to me."

"Thank you," Sam blushed, averting her eyes and cursing her fair complexion.

"If you wish, we may continue our lesson tomorrow," Teal'c offered.

"I'd like that," she smiled in reply.

"Perhaps in the future our lessons could be supplemented with an exploration of the techniques favored among the Tau'ri?" Teal'c asked, his eyes sparkling hopefully even though his voice gave nothing away.

"Sure," Sam agreed, hesitantly. "Although Colonel O'Neill would probably be a better choice…"

"I would be most pleased to learn from you," Teal'c countered.

"Okay," she relented, her smile giving way to a full-blown grin.

With a bow, Teal'c turned on his heel and returned to the gym, no doubt to go pump some serious iron and put the pair of loud mouth marines still in there to shame.

Watching his retreating back, Sam shook her head in surprise. It amazed her that Teal'c could adapt so easily to the idea of serving with a woman, while most of the rest of the base personnel on active field duty had trouble wrapping their heads around the idea. Even after the ass kicking she'd given Turghan, there were still a lot of grumblings around the base that a frontline unit was no place for a woman. She'd just assumed that Teal'c would feel the same way, even if he didn't say anything about it.

Heading for the locker room, Sam's spirits were buoyed. If someone raised to believe that woman were fit only to rear children and keep house for their husbands could so quickly come to accept her field status, maybe all hope of convincing the rest of the base wasn't lost.

Sure, being 'the girl' still sucked, but after her talk little talk with Teal'c, suddenly it didn't seem like a terminal condition anymore.


	3. The First Commandment

**Being 'The Girl'**

"Isn't that the girl whose ex went nuts, enslaved an entire planet and tried to kill her and her CO?"

The question posed two tables over was not quite quiet enough to escape her attention, and Sam closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She willed away the stab of loss that accompanied memories of Jonas Hanson and cast a surreptitious glance at Daniel to see if he'd overheard.

His eyes avoided hers, but his stiff posture still managed to give the game away. With an awkward wave of his hand, Daniel motioned her in front of him as they entered the food line. Not that the physical barrier of his body between her and the women gossiping in the corner would do anything to ease the sting of their words. Still, she appreciated the effort.

A wave of half-smothered giggles erupted from the gossips' corner and most people present in the commissary turned their heads in the direction of the sound. It may sound paranoid, but Sam knew, just knew, the laughter was the result of a cutting remark about her. As the giggles died down, people returned their attention to their own tasks, but not before a few personnel eyed her knowingly.

Selecting a pre-wrapped sandwich with even less enthusiasm for commissary food than she usually displayed, Sam snuck another glance at Daniel. This time he didn't avoid her gaze and blue met blue. He ducked his head slightly and leaned in while grabbing for a sandwich of his own.

"Do you want to take lunch back to your lab and work on that theory some more?" he offered quietly. To anyone listening, it would sound like nothing more than one workaholic tempting another away from a break, but Sam recognized the tentative offer of friendship for what it was and latched on to it gratefully.

"Yeah, I think we were really getting somewhere," she replied, flashing him a wide smile to convey her thanks.

"Great," Daniel returned, reaching for two cups of jell-o and setting one on her tray. He noted her surprise at the gesture and wondered if maybe he hadn't taken the whole friendship thing a bit too far. "Uh, sorry," he apologized, "I thought maybe… I mean, I've noticed you usually go for blue…"

"Yeah, thanks," Sam interrupted, putting a stop to his stumbling apology before it got too embarrassing for either of them. "Are you good to go?"

"All set," Daniel assured, nodding to the door in an 'after you' gesture. She was happy to oblige and walked as quickly as she could without attracting any unnecessary attention.

Another burst of laughter bubbled up from the gossips' corner halfway between the food line and the door. In spite of herself, Sam felt her cheeks grow warm, all the while cursing herself for caring what anyone thought of her. After all, it had never bothered her before. Well, not much.

A warm hand landed on her back and she momentarily closed her eyes, thankful that Daniel was there. As they made their way from the commissary to her lab, his hand stayed in place, a soothing reassurance that at least one person on base wasn't amused by the disaster that SG-1's last mission had turned into.

Finally entering the sanctuary of her lab, Sam set her lunch down on one of the benches before striding over to the door and closing it. She was only too happy to shut out the stares that had been shadowing her through the base since returning from her last mission.

"I know it's hard, but try to ignore them," Daniel advised sagely, settling on one of her stools.

"I don't care that they're talking about me," Sam informed him, drumming her fingers idly on the countertop in front of her. "What bothers me is that everyone thinks it's such an amusing story! _Real people _died and no one seems to care!"

Daniel fell silent, absentmindedly picking at the plastic wrap blanketing his sandwich. He watched her from across the lab bench for long moments but unlike the people who stared at her when she walked through the base, his gaze didn't make her feel self-conscious. Instead, she felt like he truly wanted to hear what was going through her head. She'd be happy to share with him, if only she could figure it out herself.

The whole experience with Jonas had been an unpleasant reminder of why they'd broken up. His controlling behavior was reminiscent of the final months before Sam had called off the wedding and now, with the benefit of hindsight, she wondered if she shouldn't have taken the change in his personality as a sign that he needed help. She couldn't help but wonder if, maybe, things wouldn't have turned out differently if she'd done something about the changes in him back when they were still together. Logically, she was aware that it wasn't her fault, but a part of her would always question what she could have done differently.

For all his faults and despite the break up, she still loved Jonas and probably always would. After all, she'd agreed to marry the man, been ready to spend the rest of her life with him; her feelings for him didn't just evaporate simply because they'd broken off the engagement. And that, Sam decided, was where the problem lay: she'd watched the man she'd loved die and no one outside her team seemed to understand that.

Rather than sympathy or even empty platitudes, she was assailed by various retellings of the mission whenever she left the sanctuary of her lab. The common threads that were included, regardless of who was telling the story, were that she'd jumped in bed with Jonas to further her own career, then dumped him when a more decorated senior officer had come along. The other thing all the different versions of the story had in common was that she was sleeping with Colonel O'Neill now and that information had been what pushed Jonas to try and kill both her and her CO.

Nowhere in any of the versions of the story did anyone mention the months of erratic behavior and violent outbursts that she'd endured before breaking up with Jonas.

The black eye he'd given her in the heartbeat before she decided to leave didn't come up either.

Of course, no one doubted that she was sleeping with Colonel O'Neill. That was a foregone conclusion as far as base gossip was concerned.

And the whole trying to kill SG-1's command team thing? How could that be anything but the byproduct of a love triangle? Or at least a sex triangle; Sam was pretty sure no one on base factored love into the equation.

"You've heard the rumors?" Sam finally asked, her voice quiet as she poked at her sandwich experimentally.

"Yes," Daniel answered. "They're ridiculous and I've made a point of saying so."

"I just…" she began, struggling to find the right words to describe how she was feeling, the force behind her pokes increasing as her agitation grew. "I wish they'd all stop talking about me like I'm some sort of… I don't know. I _loved_ him and everyone is acting like his death doesn't bother me."

"I know," he interrupted, laying a gentle hand over hers to stop her from compromising the structural integrity of her sandwich and turning it into a plastic wrapped pile of tuna-scented mush.

"If I were a man…"

"I know," he repeated, squeezing her hand briefly before pulling away and poking at his own sandwich.

The pair descended into silence, both periodically returning to abusing their lunches. Eventually, Sam gave up on the idea of eating her sandwich, which was only slightly more structurally sound than a pile of mush, and reached for her jell-o instead. Savoring the first bite of the dessert, Sam closed her eyes and let the jell-o melt on her tongue before swallowing.

"Thanks," she murmured quietly, readying her spoon with the next mouthful.

"You already thanked me," Daniel responded, looking up from his own mushed sandwich and smiling at the blue stain the desert was leaving on her tongue.

"I wasn't talking about the jell-o," Sam clarified.

Daniel might be a man, but that didn't mean he was finding it any easier than she was to be 'one of the guys'. He was the target of just as much resentment as she was, being a civilian and getting a slot on the SGC's flagship team. Although the rumor mill had cut him some slack after SG-1's last mission, he'd still endured more than his fair share of dirty looks and nasty comments in the halls. He might not completely understand the difficulties she was having trying to fit in, but he understood enough to make Sam feel like she wasn't alone.

Being 'the girl' here might not be easy, but at least with 'the civilian' around, she was in good company.

A/N: I am _such _a sucker for Daniel and Sam ooey gooey friendship goodness. : D


	4. Conclusion

A/N: This chapter is set after "Hathor" but before saving the world became just another day at the SGC. I am _so_ not a science person so please cut me some slack here. Besides, it's not the science in this chapter that matters. : D

**Being 'The Girl'**

"_That's_ the girl whose supposed to save us all from certain doom at the hands of xenophobic aliens?"

Sam closed her eyes and forced the disbelievingly hissed words out of her head, knowing she couldn't afford the distraction right now. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, writing lines of command code faster than her eyes could check it for errors. Usually she would have someone checking over her work as she went, the extra set of eyes acting as insurance against a typo making its way into the final program, but there was no time for such a luxury right now.

She had less than three minutes to rewrite the code for the iris over the stargate. If she couldn't finish in time, the energy wave coming through the open wormhole would overload the stargate's energy retention capacity and cause the gate to explode, taking a sizable chunk of Earth along with it.

"Carter?" Colonel O'Neill, inquired from the gate room, the command in his voice cutting through her concentration. He, along with Teal'c, Major Feretti, Sergeant Siler and a few others were down there, armed with only insulated gloves, trying to force the iris to close manually.

Not able to risk the error that talking might force her to make, Sam simply shook her head and refocused.

All eyes in the room were swinging back and forth between her and the monitor over her head, counting down the time left before the gate overloaded. No one had said anything yet, but Sam knew everyone was wondering which would finish first: her or the countdown.

To her left, the familiar voices of Daniel and General Hammond occasionally broke through the mental barrier she'd erected between her and the outside world. Both were attempting to convince the aliens on the other side of the wormhole to shut down the device that was threatening to overload their stargate and had so effectively fried the controls for the iris. No one really believed that they would achieve anything at this point, but it gave them both something to do and so they continued the one-sided negotiation.

Her racing heart began to slow as she neared the end of the code. Despite the speed at which she'd been forced to work, Sam was confident that she hadn't made any mistakes thus far. She couldn't have explained it if she tried, she just knew somehow. Now was the time when she needed to be the most careful though; the relief of reaching the end threatened to make her sloppy at the exact moment she could least afford to make a mistake.

With a triumphant "done!" she saved the frantically written program and began uploading it to the main control computers. Sparing a glance at the countdown overhead, Sam saw that there was a little less than a minute and a half left now.

As the program began to upload, Sam allowed herself to become fully aware of her surroundings once more. The control room was buzzing, crowded with a few dozen people all trying to contribute somehow to the solution they so desperately needed. When she'd been writing code, she hadn't allowed herself to acknowledge it, but now that there was nothing left to do but wait, she couldn't ignore it any longer. Here she sat, surrounded by the people who had so doubted her abilities since she'd been posted to the SGC, and now they had been given no choice but to literally place the fate of the world in her hands. Sam knew it wasn't just the clock ticking ever closer to zero that had everyone on edge.

"How much longer?" Colonel O'Neill bellowed from down in the gate room, his impatience clear. They were cutting things way too close as far as he was concerned.

"The new program is 95 percent uploaded, sir," Sam replied, watching the progress bar slowly fill. Long seconds later she announced, "100 percent of the new program uploaded; running the program now!"

And then her fingers were flying over the keyboard once more. A hush fell over the room, even Daniel and General Hammond abandoning their futile attempts at negotiation in favor of watching her work. As soon as she got the program running, her fingers stilled on the keyboard in front of her; the absence of her clacking left the room deathly still.

Another glance at the countdown showed that there were just 23 seconds left for Sam's new program to either work or not. Even as they hoped for her to succeed, Sam suspected most of the people clustered behind her were saying their prayers; they'd spent too long doubting her to muster much faith in her now.

With 14 seconds remaining on the clock, a grating sound rose up from the gate room, causing the men still struggling to force the iris shut to jump back in alarm. For a few heart stopping seconds the grating sound continued but there was no movement from the iris. Then, to the collective relief of everyone in the room, the panels of the iris lurched into motion and closed over the wormhole, sealing Earth off from the hostile aliens on the other side.

The room erupted into cheers and Sam slumped back in her chair, not partaking in the celebration and choosing instead to relish the fact that they were all still alive. Glancing up at the clock one last time, the number seven stood as evidence of just how close they'd come to the apocalypse.

A warm hand landed on her shoulder and she looked up, meeting Daniel's grinning face with a tired smile of her own. A quick squeeze was all he had time to offer before his other hand was grabbed in a celebratory handshake and he was hauled off. Sam didn't mind that she wasn't being included; she was too busy trying to hide the adrenaline-fuelled tremor in her hands to celebrate.

Standing, Sam cast about the room before her eyes landed on General Hammond, shaking hands with one of the scientists assigned to SG-6. He caught her eye and nodded, the simple gesture meaning more to her than pages of praise recorded in her personnel file ever could.

"Carter?" Colonel O'Neill's voice boomed, ringing out loud and clear over the din.

Turning, she spotted him bounding up the control room stairs with a wide grin, his pride in her written plain on his face.

"That's my girl!" he whooped, making a beeline for her and wrapping her up in a bear hug that lifted her clear off the ground.

As she hovered in the air, blushing like crazy while her CO squeezed the living daylights out of her, Sam decided that maybe being 'the girl' wasn't such a bad thing after all.

A/N: And now our little Sam is all grown up and comfortable in her own skin! Most of the time, at least. : )


End file.
